Most of my readers by now have read my daughter’s, Rebekah Roseanne Remkiewicz’s obituary. Yes, my 47-year-old daughter with two beautiful teenagers died on July 19, 2024, at 6:08 p.m. Bekah was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer in September of 2023. After multiple rounds of treatment, she was again checked in January of 2024 and found the treatment had failed. After more CAT scans and PET scans and X-rays, and bone density tests, Rebekah was then scheduled for a new and different round of cancer treatment. But it was too late.
During the school year, she missed very few teaching days. Bekah finished her master’s degree in information science from the University of Tennessee during that fall and was scheduled to walk/be hooded in May of 2024. She also presided over the Central Valley CUE group (Computer User Educators), participated in a weekly professional group chat called “Midnight Pedagogy”, took us all on our winter trip to our ranch, secured a couple of grants for her school, attended a statewide conference in Palm Springs, and received two awards for her work as a teacher. In May of this year, she was clearly in pain and yet still flew to Tennessee and walked to the stage and received her Masters hood. In June the disease finally disabled her completely. I helped her get up, go to the toilet, and get around the house. Clearly her system was failing until I finally put my foot down and said she was going to the hospital. Quite honestly Rebekah was in excruciating pain and still her father had to insist on sending her to the hospital. It was there that after more tests including a painful spinal tap the full truth was discovered. The breast cancer had spread to her hip and from her hip to her spinal fluid. The doctors called and told the family that there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Now, I am a combat Marine that served in Vietnam in 1968 and 1969. As a Marine tank commander, I participated in some of the bloodiest and most deadly firefights that occurred along the DMZ during that period. I have held dying friends in my arms as they bled out. I never saw anything quite so painful as the last three days before my daughter died. In those last three days I never felt so useless in all my life.
Over the time from September of 2023 through her final weeks we have been blessed with so many people praying for Rebekah. With so many praying so often I allowed myself the luxury of believing that surely God would not allow a 47-year-old woman with two teenagers and an incredibly bright future ahead of her to die. If nothing else God would not let our daughter die before her parents, that just did not seem reasonable. Quite honestly, that was not the hard truth.
God does not work on Rebekah’s time, my time or your time. In fact, God doesn’t even recognize time. God only knows when it is time to call a child of his home. I cannot tell you why it was time for Rebekah to be called home. I can tell you that I love my daughter. I can tell you it hurts, deeply. I can tell you that I miss her terribly as so many people she knew miss her. I can tell you that no one understands, least of all her children. I can tell you there is a hole in my heart that will never be filled while I am on this earth. But let me share something with you through the tears, the hugs, the boxes of Kleenex, and the outpouring of love for Rebekah from so many. The dozens of people who have reached out to comfort her children, her family, and her closest friends. My God, your God, everyone’s God is the essence of pure love. God cannot and will not do anything to harm anyone of us. It is not in the nature of God to bring harm on any of us. Think about that for a moment. If you love someone, how can you bring destruction to that person? God loves each and every one of us from “before we were born”. God cannot act against his nature, and God’s nature is love.
None of this is to say that I haven’t struggled with the whys and wherefores since July 19, nor will I get over those struggles anytime soon. I have asked God some very pointed questions in these last few weeks. And yes, God and I have indeed argued about this. But in the quiet hours of the early mornings, I realize that is more about my relationship with God and how I try to understand God’s ways. It really does not have much to do with my beloved daughter. I know that God has lifted my “Bekah Rose” into the palm of his hand where she suffers no pain and she enjoys her renewed life with God and his son Jesus Christ. I know Rebekah was greeted by her nana and grandad, her grandmother and her grandfather, and by my sister Jean and her cousin Toby.
Later on, this fall, the entire family will travel to our ranch in Santa Maria. There, halfway up a hillside is a memorial spot where all of Rebekah’s ancestors have had their ashes scattered. Farther up that hillside near the very top there is a grove of red oak trees that provides a shady spot of grass. Over the course of the last 50 years, we have all hiked up there for a picnic or two. It is my considered spiritual opinion that I will be able to look up that hillside and see Rebekah’s great Uncle Paul spreading a soft and beautiful blanket for a picnic prepared by Great Aunt Edith and Rebekah’s Nana. Rebekah’s grandfather will be slowly climbing the hillside with the chips and cookies. And lo and behold, Rebekah will be bringing a bottle of Rancho Sisquoc wine and a corkscrew. Our God is an awesome God indeed.
Francis (Frank) Remkiewicz is an area resident and contributes a monthly column focused primarily on faith and religion. He can be reached at fremkiewicz@gmail.com. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
